CT 
2/75- 



HONORABLE OLD AG 



DISCOURSE 



OCCASIONED BY THE CENTENNIAL ANNIVERSARY 



HON. TIMOTHY FARRAR, LL. D 



DELIVERED AT HOLLIS, N. H., 



JULY 11, 1847. 



BY 

TIMOTHY FARRAR CLARY. 



$tfntefc fca? Request. 



ANDOVER: 
PRINTED BY WILLIAM H. WARDWELL 
1847. 



6 ,J2<> 






DISCOURSE 



PKOYEEBS 16: 31. 

The hoary head is a crown op glory, if it be found in the way 
of righteousness. 

Time imparts a hallowed interest to whatever 
has long withstood its slow dissolving touch. It 
invests with sacredness the relic which has sur- 
vived the wreck of ages, and stamps the seal of a 
peculiar honor on the virtue it has tested. 

With slow and solemn step we walk the clois- 
tered aisle of the deserted temple, once crowded 
with worshippers, the living men of a nation long 
since expired. Its mutilated walls, its broken pil- 
lars, its crumbling arches, its forsaken altars, its 
vacant niches, its fallen statues of the mighty dead, 
its scattered fragments and mouldering ruins, are 
the authentic history of centuries far remote. We 
delight to linger in thoughtful silence amid the 
venerable ruins. They speak to us with solemn 
pathos of the past. Let not profane lips disturb the 
silent eloquence of their decaying splendor. The 

ECTiGM 



living spirit of buried centuries is there communing 
with our own. We hear a voice within saying 
put thy shoes from off thy feet, for thou art tread- 
ing upon the consecrated dust of a nation's sepul- 
chre. 

With similar emotions we behold the mighty 
cataract, and listen to the thunder of its roar, for it 
carries us far back into the solitude of ages, when 
no voice but its own broke the eternal silence, 
when no eye but that of the All-seeing beheld its 
massive torrent and the arching of its rainbows. 
The same feeling arises when we survey the rocky 
mountain-head, upon which " eternity hath snowed 
its years." 

This emotion, which scenes like these uniformly 
inspire, indicates the existence of an original ele- 
ment of the mind, from which it springs. It teaches 
us that a regard for antiquity is a constituent prin- 
ciple of our nature. The most acute analysis can 
resolve this principle into nothing more ultimate. 
The emotion is well defined, and clearly distin- 
guished from those other sentiments of grandeur, 
and beauty, and honor, with which it is usually 
connected. It is called into existence alike by the 
worthless relic and the magnificent ruin, by the 
rude moss-covered monument and the splendid 
mausoleum, by the vestiges of man embedded in 
the mountain-rock and the exhumed temples of 



Herculaneum. Upon the relic, which forms a con- 
necting link between remote ages and the present 
moment, time has cast an enchantment. Take 
away the other qualities which give interest to ex- 
ternal objects, which dignify the character and add 
lustre to the achievements of men, antiquity alone 
remaining, they still excite our veneration. It is 
not superstition which leads us to revere the insti- 
tutions of our fathers, to venerate whatever time has 
thrown its mantle upon and honored with its sanc- 
tions. In doing this, we but yield obedience to a 
primary law of our being. 

The same principle lies at the foundation of that 
honor which all nations have bestowed upon the 
man of reverend age. Culture has not engrafted 
this sentiment upon the original stock of the sensi- 
bilities, anticipating as it were the beauty and rich- 
ness of its fruit. The unwritten law of conven- 
tional propriety did not prescribe it, as conducive to 
the order of society and the happiness of man. Nor 
was the law of its requisition written by the ringer 
of God merely upon tables of stone. It was en- 
graven in living characters upon the human soul. 
The value of the principle appears from the fact 
that it was combined with those elements which 
constitute man the image of God. Therefore it is, 
that we feel a strong repugnance to one who is 
wanting in the quality of respect for old age. Be- 



cause this is an essential element of humanity, he 
seems misshapen, distorted, somewhat monstrous. 
He is something less than man, and more to be 
despised than any man, who can treat rudely, or 
with cold neglect, one who is bending beneath the 
honors, as well as the infirmities of age. Intelli- 
gence, wisdom, justice, and veracity always com- 
mand the respect of mankind; but when these 
qualities are confirmed, expanded, and attempered 
by old age, they demand the higher sentiment of 
reverence. 

The principle we have asserted is, that old age, 
as such, by a law of our nature, is entitled to a pe- 
culiar regard ; but when united with righteousness, 
it constitutes a crown of glory to be revered. The 
text recognizes this principle. For there is no age 
in the life of man which religion does not honor 
and adorn. It throws a radiance upon the open 
brow of childhood, adds lustre to its bright eye, and 
beauty to its innocent sportiveness. It checks not 
the free spirit and elastic energy of youth, but im- 
parts a chastened gaiety, a thoughtful confidence, 
and paints before its longing eye visions of a better 
hope. Religion bestows honor upon manhood, 
giving a proper control to its strong arm, its vigo- 
rous intellect, its earnest heart, and determined will. 
But to the hoary head it is a crown of glory. It 
wreaths a garland of beauty around the temples of 



childhood, encircles the brow of youth with orna- 
ments of grace, covers manhood with a mitre of 
dignity and honor, but upon the head of venerable 
age it composes a more excellent adorning, even a 
crown of glory. 

We are led this morning to reflect upon old age, 
a period of life in which we cannot fail to be in- 
terested. The principle we have considered forms 
the ground of that interest which we cannot but 
feel in the man who has passed his threescore years 
and ten, which the decree of Heaven has fixed as 
the limit of human life. Interesting old age ! Be- 
hold the " old man covered with a mantle !" He 
has " come down to us from a former generation." 
He may be the representative of three generations 
of men* Then since he became a living soul, three 
times has earth been repeopled, and as often have 
its myriads fallen into the bed of dust. He has 
stood by the tomb of the universe, and while its 
unnumbered inhabitants have marched in long pro- 
cession—an awful pomp — three times has he seen 
a last rank step into the abode of silence. Three 
armies of living men have the world's popula- 
tion successively become; with sure and rapid 
strokes death has cut them down, and swept the 
entire mass into a common grave, while he alone 
survives unscarred. He stands like the solitary oak 

* Note A. 



8 

in the midst of the plain ; three forests have been 
felled around it ; the storms of an hundred years 
have beaten upon it, and the lightnings of heaven 
played around it ; yet it stands unscathed, sound at 
the heart, and the fresh foliage adorning its rigid 
limbs. The snows of an hundred winters may have 
whitened the locks of the venerable man. A cen- 
tury may have ploughed furrows in the brow, which 
it has not mouldered back to dust ; it may have 
dimmed the lustre of the eye, which it has not 
availed to seal in death. It may, it must have im- 
paired the outward frame, but it has left a vigorous 
heart beating within, the life-blood coursing freely 
through the veins, and the living, conscious spirit 
in possession of its throne. 

Look upon the two extremes of such an age, 
and mark the space between them. What mighty 
changes has earth undergone ! Nations have sprung 
into being ; thrones have crumbled into dust, and 
the requiem of empires has been sung. Revolution 
upon revolution has rolled its mighty billows over 
the face of the earth. Kingdoms have become deso- 
late, and the wilderness populous with far-spreading 
tribes of men. What marshalling of forces ; what 
marches and countermarches ; what perpetual an- 
tagonism ; what running to and fro among the busy 
inhabitants of earth ! In the moral world what 
changes has so long a period wrought ! New insti- 



tutions have supplanted old. Society has been cast, 
and recast in new and still newer forms. Strong 
minds and stout hearts have rushed into the field of 
conflict where truth was the prize of victory. Er- 
ror, assuming new and still newer forms, retreating 
and still retreating, has been driven from successive 
hiding-places, and progress, in every department of 
life, has marked the lapse of an hundred years. 
Through all that mighty space, the aged man has 
passed. His ear still open, distinctly heard the 
solemn tone, when the last hour of that expiring 
century was struck by the horologe of time. 

What a volume would the minute history of such 
a life compose ; the accumulated thought and ac- 
tion of the mind ; all the yearnings and anguish, 
the intense and gentler vibrations of the spirit ! He 
has passed through all the stages of human life. It 
has no apartment into which he has not entered ; 
no sanctuary into which he has not gained admit- 
tance ; no secluded recess, of darkness or of light, 
which his eye has not pierced. To him it has no 
secrets of hope or of fear, of joy or of sorrow, that 
have not been revealed. He has made thorough 
trial of it, and knows the very substance out of 
which the fabric of life is wrought. Its mingled cup 
of bitter and of sweet he has drank to the very dregs. 
He has struggled through all its conflicts, encoun* 
tered all its storms, and now in gentle repose, with 
2 



10 

the wisdom of experience, and a nature fitted for 
the change which awaits it, he stands upon the 
outmost verge of time, while the waves of eternity 
are breaking at his feet. 

We do well to cherish and cultivate respect for 
old age. The position it occupies, its relation to the 
past and the future, to time and to eternity, to man 
and to God, invest it with interesting claims upon 
our attention. With profit will we carefully study 
its time-worn pages, and pluck the fruit of wisdom 
from the brow of age, and let its gray mantle fall 
upon the more gay attire of manhood and of youth. 
Well may we at times yield up our too thoughtless 
hearts to the full influence of those serious im- 
pressions which it is fitted to make. Old age has 
interest to us because of the possibility that we our- 
selves may attain it. Who is there, that does not 
cherish the patriarchal desire, that he may be gath- 
ered to his fathers in a good old age, an old man 
and full of years ? that his hoary head may be a 
crown of glory ? Our theme, then, is honorable old 
age ; what such an age is ; how it is attained ; 
what are its results. — What constitutes an hon- 
orable old age ? 

The first thing we shall notice as implied in this 
description is the activity of the bodily powers. The 
casement of the soul must remain unbroken.^ The 

* Note B. 



11 

outward man must perform all its appropriate func- 
tions, and administer to the happiness of the spirit 
within. Every talent and possession has a value of 
its own, and is entitled to an appropriate regard. 
The aged man, " whose eye is not dim nor his natu- 
ral force abated," we view as an object of curiosity 
and admiration. We honor one who has been able 
to keep the complicated machine of the human 
frame, "fearfully and wonderfully made," in strong 
and orderly movement so long. Now it is not im- 
plied that the decay, or loss of the bodily faculties 
argues any moral defect, or occasions dishonor. It 
may be so, or it may not. The cause of the priva- 
tion, or premature decay will determine this. In- 
fancy may inherit the seeds of disease, which shall 
speedily germinate, and bring forth the fruit of 
death, or allow only a protracted life of infirmity 
and pain. The providence of God may seal up 
the eye in eternal night, and close the ear forever 
to the music of speech. Causes beyond human 
control may distort the frame, disable the limbs, 
and leave the outward man a useless and miser- 
able wreck. This condition of old age demands 
compassion ; and woe betide the man, who leaves 
to suffering and want that helplessness, which filial 
piety, or humane regard, requires him to cherish 
and protect. 

Although physical defect may be the misfortune 



f. 



12 

of old age, and reflect no dishonor upon it, yet 
when we see the man of extreme years, with the 
glow of health upon his cheek, with form erect, 
with firmness of step and facility of movement, it 
always indicates the existence of virtues which we 
do well to honor and emulate. The erect form 
suggests that he is in other senses upright, that he 
has some of the qualities of a true man. Our life 
and health, the vigor of our faculties, bodily and 
mental, are under our control to a far greater extent 
than we are apt to suppose. Look upon the man 
of an hundred years, embarrassed with no infirmi- 
ties except those which time has wrought, stealing 
upon him by slow and imperceptible approaches, 
and fighting every inch against a strong tenacity of 
life ; and be assured he has economised, and spent 
with a frugal hand, that measure of vitality which 
Heaven has graciously allowed him. 

Viewing a life equal in duration to three of the 
ordinary lives of men, we feel that temperance is no 
cowardly, insignificant virtue. It becomes a gem, 
adorning a vigorous old age, and sparkling in its 
crown of glory. I know of an aged man who took 
care of the body as the tenement of the soul. He 
kept it in subjection. The principle of conduct was, 
" this soul shall conquer this body, or quit it." His 
temperance was no whimsical care of diet, having 
its commandments of the first and second table, 



13 

with a ponderous code of ritual observances, ex- 
tending to mint, anise and cummin, to be kept 
with scrupulous ostentation. It was the quiet ob- 
servance of the principle, to abstain immediately 
from whatever was found to be injurious. It ex- 
tended to all things. It was a comprehensive virtue, 
controling all the appetites and passions. It se- 
cured regularity of habit, freedom from undue ex- 
ertions and excitements both physical and mental, 
held the passions in strict subjection, and suffered 
them not to consume away the life. It enabled 
him to preserve equanimity, calmness, resignation, 

" To husband out life's taper at the close, 
And keep the flame from wasting by repose." 

Becoming a fixed habit, it guarded him almost from 
the possibility of too great indulgence. It carried 
him to the centennial year of life, and preserved 
the body still a not unfit tabernacle for the immortal 
soul to dwell in. The body was not a burdensome 
encumbrance, that the soul should desire to cast it 
off The usual infirmities of age pressed lightly 
upon him. Life was not a burden to himself, or 
the occasion of anxiety and trouble to others. It 
was still a source of enjoyment. The senses were 
the inlets of pleasure. The viands of earth were 
still grateful to the taste ; the cheerful light of the 
sun was still pleasing to the eye ; the singing of 
summer birds still delighted the ear; the flower 



14 

was still fragrant, and the untainted breath of early 
morn invigorating. He walked with secure step 
over the patient earth. Sleep was sweet to him ; 
he reclined his head on the pillow of repose, his 
spirit on the bosom of eternal truth. Thus the cur- 
rent of life was flowing tranquilly, and mingling 
with the ocean of eternity. Verily virtue, in the 
present life, has its reward. 

With health, and corporeal energy, honorable old 
age must unite vigor of the intellectual faculties. 
A sound mind must inhabit the sound body, and 
the life of one be well mingled with the life of the 
other. An unmutilated statue from one of the old 
masters, is a rare specimen of antiquity. A rarer 
curiosity is that living, antique piece of divine statu- 
ary, the sound old man of a by-gone century. But 
when the outward is the semblance of the inward 
man, and " the body not only contains but repre- 
sents the soul," we view it with heightened admi- 
ration, and honor one whose vigorous mind im- 
bodies the wisdom, and commands the experience 
of accumulated years. The mind sympathizes with 
the body. The spirit is weak because the flesh is 
weak. Mental imbecility often attends physical 
decay, and awakens the gloomy apprehension that 
the spiritual nature perishes with the material. The 
infirmities of age encompass the mind. As the 
eye grows dim, the light of intelligence is shut out 



15 

from the windows of the soul. The sun and the 
stars of the intellect are darkened, and all the daugh- 
ters of music brought low. The sprightly and vivid 
faculties become torpid ; the quick perception dull ; 
imagination flutters in the dust ; the treacherous 
memory retains nothing that was committed to its 
trust. The thinking, reasoning, reflecting being has 
departed, while the mere rubbish of a man remains, 
the decrepit body, and the phantom of a mind. 
The consciousness of a broken, expiring intellect 
may still survive to inflict exquisite torment on the 
soul, and cause it to prefer death rather than life. 
This condition seems to be the usual, though per- 
haps not the necessary penalty of long life. When, 
therefore, we see the man of extreme years in the 
possession of both physical and mental vigor, who 
has never been made to feel the burden of helpless- 
ness and dotage, we not only congratulate him, as 
a rare favorite of the Divine Providence, but revere 
him as one whom that Providence has rewarded 
with especial honor. We ascribe this strength and 
activity of mind to the constant and right action of 
all its faculties. The mechanism of the intellect 
has been kept in nice adjustment ; no part has been 
allowed to rust by disuse, or break and wear out 
by disorderly movement. Every spring has struck 
at the right time, every pinion in the right place. 
There has been no dragging of the wheels, no grat- 



16 

ing or straining of the parts, no jars and combats. 
The vigor of the physical nature has conduced to 
the vigor of the mental, the health of the body to 
the health of the soul. Reason has controlled the 
other faculties, stimulating the sluggish and check- 
ing the impulsive. The rust of hatred, the trans- 
ports of anger, the violences of revenge, the heats 
and turbulences of passion, have not been allowed 
to throw all things into confusion and tumult. The 
intellect has worked hard and constantly, at times 
with great intenseness, yet the " lubricating oil of 
an habitual cheerfulness" has given an easy play to 
the wheels, and kept the machine from wearing out. 
The use of the mind, without its abuse, has pre- 
served its integrity and lustre. Thought and reflec- 
tion have been directed to proper objects. The mind 
having its appropriate nutriment, all its faculties re- 
tain their strength and activity. 

Honorable old age thus retains a vivid sense of 
the value of human life. With a keen relish of life, 
it also becomes instructive to others. The aged 
man enjoys that noblest of all the gifts of Providence, 
a clear, unbroken intellect. That painful conscious- 
ness of partial annihilation, of which we have 
spoken, is unknown to him. His soul still exults 
in the sublime consciousness of its divine powers, 
and feels all the joyous pulsations of spiritual life. 
Imagination still delights to wander in freedom 



17 

among the beautiful objects of earth ; to select, to 
combine, to create. His memory, even of late 
events, is unclouded, and surprises by its capacity 
and accurateness. From its treasury he can bring 
forth things new and old. From its stereotyped 
pages, he can read you the entire record of a na- 
tion's history, even those minute events for which 
the antiquary may search in vain. Upon the de- 
cisions of his judgment we rely, as the deductions 
of sound reasoning, of unimpassioned mind, of ma- 
ture thought, and long experience. His advice is 
still accepted with undiminished confidence. His 
words are those which fall from the lips of wisdom, 

" As the beaded bubbles that sparkle on the rim of the cup 
of immortality ." 

Reflection is to him a source of enjoyment and 

profit. Philosophy comes to his aid, and uses the 

observations of a long life, and the revelation of 

eternal truth, to support declining age and mitigate 

its trials. The sun of his intellect is sinking in the 

far distant horizon, in full orbed strength, and 

unclouded brightness. 

Such a man has kept pace with the intellectual 

progress of the world, and is in sympathy with the 

age in which he lives. The mind of the old man 

too often partakes of the inflexibility of his limbs. 

It is the crystallized thought and feeling of a former 

age. We admire it as a beautiful relic. It is the 

3 



18 

transparent medium through which we see the past. 
We would therefore deal gently with the prejudices 
of the aged ; not to do so, betrays stronger prejudice 
in ourselves. Scrupulously to apply the measuring 
line of the present age to one who has come down 
to us from a former, is injustice. Still if the want 
of intellectual vitality exhibits itself in exalting the 
past at the expense of the present, in admiring the 
lustre of the golden age which has expired, and re- 
coiling from the rust of the iron age which is passing, 
the murmurs and complaints of the old man will 
hang like a millstone on the neck of his happiness. 
The constant antagonism of the world chafe his 
spirits. He ekes out a fretful and comfortless life. 
It is not thus with the vigorous intellect of honor- 
able old age. This preserves its plastic nature, and 
is moulded by the age which it may no longer tend 
to mould. It acknowledges progress in human 
afTairs, rejoices in it, and prefers the present times. 
Its vitality is not exhausted, nor its happiness mar- 
red by murmuring over the degeneracy of the age. 
"With all our love of antiquity, our aged friends who 
live only in the past and admire nothing out of it, 
must pardon us if we prefer the old man, who has 
nothing about him, but superior wisdom and gray 
hairs, to remind you of the past. 

Honorable old age must also possess much of the 
elasticity and freshness of human life. It must re- 



19 

tain a healthy flow of the spirits, a quick play of the 
sensibilities, a keen sense of enjoyment. These 
constitute the vitality of the soul. Without them, 
there is a deadness to the world which is not a vir- 
tue. The heart must still expand with its generous 
sympathies. There are few men of mature years 
who have not yielded to the morbid tendencies of 
our struggling life. The sensitive heart recoils from 
the touch of the cold world, the torch of hope is 
extinguished by its damps. A cloud of gloom en- 
velopes the man of care ; disappointment blights a 
generous enthusiasm, and the burdens of life crush 
his spirit. He retires within himself, puts on a re- 
pulsive habit of reserve, suspicion and distrust. 
" Confidence is a plant of slow growth in an old 
man's breast." Yet who of us has not seen some 
aged man upon whose heart time had left no hard 
features? His warm affections, ready sympathies, 
and kindliness of manner, still attracted the love 
and won the confidence of youth. His uniform 
cheerfulness, playful humor, and lively interest in all 
about him, made home the scene of hallowed en- 
dearment. He conversed on the political news of 
the day with an accuracy of knowledge and fresh- 
ness of interest appropriate to the patriot and the 
citizen. An equability of temper and constant flow 
of spirits, rendered him at all times a pleasing com- 
panion, ready to share and appreciate whatever of 



20 

amusement or interest engaged the attention of 
those with whom he was conversant. Fortunate 
and happy beyond the common lot of mankind 
were his declining years of unimpaired vitality. 
Amiable was his old age of dignity and cheerfulness, 
free alike from querilous discontent and unbecom- 
ing levity. That is a true and manly heart which 
has come out from the trials of a long life unharmed. 

" Behold, a patriarch of years, who leaneth on the staff of religion ; 
His heart is fresh, quick to feel, a bursting forth of generosity ; 
He, playful in his wisdom is gladdened in his children's gladness ; 

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Lofty aspirations, deep affections, holy hopes are his delight. 

His abhorrence is to strip from life its charitable garment of ideal. 

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Passionate thirst for gain never hath burnt within his bosom, 
The leaden chains of that dull lust have not bound him prisoner ; 
The shrewd world laughed at him for honesty, the vain world 

mouthed at him for honor, 
The false world hated him for truth, the cold world despised him for 

affection ; 
Still he kept his treasure the warm and noble heart, 
And in that happy wise old man survive the child and lover. 
For human life is a Chian wine, flavored unto him who drinketh it, 
Delicate fragrance comforting the soul, as needful substance for the 

body : 
Therefore, see thou art pure and guileless ; so shall thy realities of life 
Be sweetened, and tempered, and gladdened by the wholesome spirit 

of Romance." 

That is the sublimity of human life, which unites 
the wisdom and experience of venerable age, with 
the intellect of manhood, and the heart of youth. 



21 

There yet remains to be noticed the most indis- 
pensable quality of honorable old age, piety, or an 
unwavering religious trust. It is called righteous- 
ness in the text, and is the last grace of old age, 
crowning gray hairs with lustre, and adorning the 
soul for heaven. The wise man expressed what 
is the universal sentiment of mankind. For how- 
ever men may sneer at piety as betraying simplic- 
ity in youth, and weakness in manhood ; however 
they may despise it as a blemish and a burden- 
some encumbrance to the man of business, or 
graciously tolerate it in woman, they admire it as 
a beauty in old age. They think it an appropriate 
adorning for the man who has walked far down 
into the vale of years, and stands on the borders of 
eternity. Who does not regard piety as a valuable 
ornament for the man bending beneath the weight 
of years, leaning on a staff, encompassed with in- 
firmities, or lying upon the bed of sickness and 
death, soon to appear in the immediate presence 
of his Omniscient Judge ? To him it is indeed the 
pearl of great price, more valuable than all the other 
pearls which the waves of a past eternity has 
dashed upon the shores of time. The robe of 
righteousness is a becoming attire for the aged man, 
it gives to him an outward air of composed dignity 
and peace to the spirit within. 

The aged man, whom piety adorns, has yielded 



22 

an intelligent assent to the truths of the gospel, and 
habitually practised its precepts. Fully convinced 
that these truths will bear the test of philosophical 
examination, he has cordially embraced them. He 
has felt their adaptation to the wants of his moral 
nature ; and now, more than ever, he knows that 
they satisfy a vacuity in his soul which the uni- 
verse besides cannot fill. In his old age he clings 
to them, as the only pillar of support to his de- 
pendent spirit. The words of Jesus animate his 
soul ; to him they are spirit, they are life. 

The natural influence of old age is to confirm 
and purify all the good principles of earlier life. 
Hence the aged Christian, who has been long fa- 
miliar with the fundamental principles of religious 
truth, exhibits a rare specimen of a pure and philo- 
sophical Christianity. The trials of a long life have 
purged away the dross of his character, and left a 
purified, refined piety, which sheds a peculiar lustre 
over the close of life, and a cheerful light upon the 
tomb. His piety is characterized by strong prin- 
ciple, rather than ardent feeling. It shines with the 
mild brightness of the setting sun, not with fervors 
and dazzling brilliancies. Strong and silent emo- 
tions, which words cannot express, do indeed stir 
the deep recesses of his soul ; but his piety is as 
far removed from the blaze of enthusiasm as it is 
from the coldness of formality. A forgiven peni- 



23 

tent, he thinks humbly of himself, and walks softly 
before God. His humble heart recoils with scrupu- 
lous dread from the semblance of ostentatious piety. 
The love of God is a deep, absorbing principle, 
prompting holy emotions, and diffusing a calm 
delight through the soul. He speaks not of raptures, 
but he knows in whom he has believed. Conscious 
of approaching death, and not insensible to its mys- 
terious and momentous import, he prays that God 
may sustain him in the trying hour. Fortified with 
a devout and rejoicing trust in Christ, he awaits the 
change, not dismayed by its approach, not impatient 
of its delay. 

"But on he moves to meet his latter end, 
Angels around befriending virtue's friend; 
Sinks to the grave with unperceived decay, 
While resignation gently slopes the way ; 
And, all his prospects brightening to the last, 
His heaven commences ere the world be past." 

The steps of his declining life are successive ap- 
proaches toward heaven. 

A repose pervades his soul, which seems at vari- 
ance, and almost inconsistent with a disciplinary 
state. It may be compared with the deep blue sky, 
mirrored from the unruffled surface of the peaceful 
lake, or with the serenity of outward nature when 
the storm has subsided, and evening twilight has 
thrown its soft mantle over the quiet earth. It 
reaches all the departments of the soul, operating 



24 

by a mighty, silent energy, like the unseen agen- 
cies which preserve the harmony of the universe. 
It rebukes the agitations of this jarring, restless 
world; it calms our unlawful anxieties, our dis- 
trustful fears, and turbulent passions. It silences 
our impatient murmurings and fretful cares. We 
learn that this stormy life of ours may enjoy a re- 
pose, which is an emblem and a foretaste of the 
heavenly rest. This is the peace of God that passeth 
understanding. 

Honorable old age seems to have collected with- 
in itself the virtues, and garnered up the good of 
human life, while it has abandoned the vices, and 
escaped many of the evils incident to our nature. 
Its calm wisdom, its fruitful experience, its sub- 
dued passions and chastened sensibilities, its in- 
ward repose and purified piety, present human 
nature in its fairest aspect, in its most honorable 
robes. Childhood and youth have furnished their 
bounding, joyous tributaries; manhood, its strug- 
gling, turbid current; which declining years have 
composed and settled, and now there is the tranquil 
flowing of deep, pure waters, and "the stream of 
life is nobler as it nears the sea." 

A gracious Providence prolongs the life of aged 
men as a blessing to mankind; that they may 
bring forth the fruit of righteousness in old age. 
Their example shines with conspicuous brightness. 



25 

The lustre of their gray hairs eloquently enforces 
lessons of virtue and piety, and wins honor for the 
truth. Their presence inspires with courage those 
who are buffeting the storms of life. For they 
have fought a good fight, they have finished their 
course, and wear a visible crown of glory, emblem- 
atic of that crown of life which the righteous Judge 
shall give them in that day. Their spirits are pu- 
rified for a better world, their thoughts find a home 
in the skies, their words are " redolent of sanctity 
and heaven," their piety is the hallowed incense 
that perfumes the temple of the Most High. They 
are living epistles of the truth that godliness hath 
the promise of the life that now is. 

With devout gratitude we acknowledge the di- 
vine goodness in allowing one, in the midst of us, 
to fill up the full measure of an hundred years, 
and still to linger among us, with vigor of intel- 
lect and freshness of heart, to counsel and comfort, 
to warn and entreat, to cheer and strengthen us. 

The God whom the aged man has served in youth, 
in manhood and declining life, will not cast him off 
in time of old age, nor forsake him when strength 
faileth. The promises of God to him shall not fail : 
" Even to your old age I am he, even to your hoar 
hairs will I carry you. Those that be planted in 
the house of the Lord shall flourish in the courts of 
our God. He giveth power to the faint, and to 

4 



26 

them that have no might he increaseth strength. 
Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the 
young men shall utterly fall; but they that wait 
upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they 
shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall 
run, and not be weary ; they shall walk, and not 
faint" 



N 0TE8. 



NOTE A. Page 7. 

Judge Farrar was born June 28th, 1747, Old Style. He was 100 
years old on Friday, the 9th day of July last. He attended church on 
the morning of the following Sabbath, when the preceding discourse 
was delivered. 



NOTE B. Page 10. 

The following notice of Judge Farrar is from the Boston Daily Ad- 
vertiser. " He is a native of Lincoln in this State. At the commence- 
ment of the Revolutionary war he was a farmer in New Ipswich, N. H. 
On the 17th of June, 1775, on the report which went by express, that 
the British were coming out of Boston to Concord, he collected a small 
company and hurried to the expected scene of conflict ; but at Pepper- 
ell or Groton they were met by the news that the invaders had retreat- 
ed to Boston, and they returned. 

" The new government of New Hampshire sent Mr. Farrar two com- 
missions, one of Major in the forces to be raised in that State, and the 
other of Judge of the Court of Common Pleas, urging him however, to 
accept the latter, there being at that time but three lawyers west of 
the Merrimac River, two of whom were tories, and the third though a 
whig, was a timid man and did not dare to accept office under the new 
government, apprehending that the whole affair would be put down as 
a rebellion. Men could readily be found to accept military commis- 
sions, and it was very important that the new government should se- 
cure the confidence of the people by an orderly and stable organiza- 
tion of the civil departments. — These considerations determined Mr. 
Farrar to accept the office of Judge, though he had not received a le- 
gal education. He immediately sent for a copy of Blackstone's Com- 
mentaries, just then reprinted in this country by Isaiah Thomas of 



28 

Worcester, and read it, to use his own language, " with more avidity 
than any girl ever read a novel." 

" By law he derived his salary only from the fees paid by parties. 
These were not sufficient to pay his board when on his circuits. He 
made an arrangement at first for his landlord at Amherst, where he 
held one of his courts, to take the amount of his fees for his board, but 
after three terms his landlord declined to continue the arrangement. 
No lawyer practised in the court during the war, the two tories hav- 
ing either left the country or refusing to recognize the authority of the 
court, and the whig considering it not quite safe to appear there even 
under a protest. The court dealt out substantial justice between man 
and man without much regard to general rules or the establishment of 
a uniform and consistent system of jurisprudence. By the end of the 
war Judge Farrar had made himself as good a lawyer as any who were 
likely to practise in his court. 

"In 1 791 he was promoted to the Supreme Bench as associate Justice, 
and in 1802 was appointed Chief Justice, but he declined and procured 
the appointment and acceptance of Judge Smith who did so much to 
elevate the Judiciary of New Hampshire to the high standard it has 
since generally sustained. 

"In 1816, at the age of 69, Judge Farrar retired from public life and 
has lived upon his farm in New Ipswich, till within a few years, when 
he went to reside with his daughter in Hollis, N. H. His descendants 
are not numerous, only fifteen being now alive, all but two of whom, 
with other members of the family were present on the occasion of his 
centennial anniversary. Judge Farrar formerly of Exeter, N. H., now 
of Boston, is a son, and Samuel Farrar, Esq. of Andover and Prof. 
John Farrar of Cambridge, are his nephews. He is a remarkable in- 
stance of the preservation of physical and mental vigor to so good an 
old age ; no faculty having failed him except sight, and that but partial- 
ly, for until about two years since he could read print of common type. 
To a good constitution, kept good by temperate habits, early rising, a 
practice still continued, riding on horse-back, and an equanimity as 
unvarying as the climate of Italy he owes the wholeness of body and 
mind that is the admiration of all who have seen him," 



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